Near the end of July 2012 we received the good news that Mitch's Visa paperwork had come through and was complete! August 4 we would be moving to New York State. During the wait it always felt like that day would never come, but looking back now, it all went by so fast. I went through all our boxes that had been sitting packed in the basement for 6 months and reorganized everything and got rid of everything I no longer wanted. A moving company came and gave us a quote, but in the end we rented a Uhaul truck and trailered our car behind us.
In the weeks preparing to leave, my best friend learned that she had become pregnant. I was excited for her and her husband, but I also felt a pang of disappointment and sadness, quickly followed by guilt. I didn't want my own desire to be a mother to get in the way of my joy for my friends and their exciting news. A small part of me really thought, "Okay, this is it! We have always talked about being pregnant together! It'll happen for us now! Perhaps the Lord will grant us this dream!"
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I still planned on looking immediately into adoption when we arrived in New York, but we were going to continue to try and grow our family naturally as well.
Our first week in New York I discovered once again that I was not pregnant. I had almost convinced myself that I was. I think sometimes when we want something so badly, our mind, and sometimes even our bodies, play tricks on us and we are convinced. I think it was actually at that point that I first said in my mind, "I can't get pregnant." I wasn't being pessimistic necessarily, I think I had just entered a new phase of the grieving process that is associated with infertility. By that time it had been around 2 years of unsuccessful trying, and I was starting to feel very defeated.
This was the first time I actually told someone about my struggle. I thought it would be healing and helpful, but I discovered over the next year that I was wrong. At first it didn't feel that way. In the beginning of that October Mitch and I attended an informational meeting about adoption with a Christian agency in the area. Of course, I told my confidant about the upcoming meeting, and they seemed excited for me. Everything looked good, but then everything backfired. The person I told spent the next year bullying me, it felt like, at every opportunity. That was the beginning of a few very dark years for me. I became very depressed and struggled even to eat. Between that Fall and Spring, I lost a lot of weight and felt sick all the time. I felt very alone and utterly defeated.
At the informational meeting, we were told that the chances of an expectant mother selecting us to adopt her child were slim. Because of the fact that, not only did we look very young, but we were very young, the chances are small. I felt let down and discouraged. I thought a lot about foster care, but from all I had heard, it is difficult to adopt through foster care in our county. I still clung to a hope that maybe I would get pregnant, although, my heart was starting to soften more and more to adoption. I was tied between two dreams: the dream to become pregnant, and the dream to adopt. I felt like I was stuck in a whirlwind of waiting in the dark... Waiting for whichever dream came first, or the day when one, or both, died.
Our first week in New York I discovered once again that I was not pregnant. I had almost convinced myself that I was. I think sometimes when we want something so badly, our mind, and sometimes even our bodies, play tricks on us and we are convinced. I think it was actually at that point that I first said in my mind, "I can't get pregnant." I wasn't being pessimistic necessarily, I think I had just entered a new phase of the grieving process that is associated with infertility. By that time it had been around 2 years of unsuccessful trying, and I was starting to feel very defeated.
This was the first time I actually told someone about my struggle. I thought it would be healing and helpful, but I discovered over the next year that I was wrong. At first it didn't feel that way. In the beginning of that October Mitch and I attended an informational meeting about adoption with a Christian agency in the area. Of course, I told my confidant about the upcoming meeting, and they seemed excited for me. Everything looked good, but then everything backfired. The person I told spent the next year bullying me, it felt like, at every opportunity. That was the beginning of a few very dark years for me. I became very depressed and struggled even to eat. Between that Fall and Spring, I lost a lot of weight and felt sick all the time. I felt very alone and utterly defeated.
At the informational meeting, we were told that the chances of an expectant mother selecting us to adopt her child were slim. Because of the fact that, not only did we look very young, but we were very young, the chances are small. I felt let down and discouraged. I thought a lot about foster care, but from all I had heard, it is difficult to adopt through foster care in our county. I still clung to a hope that maybe I would get pregnant, although, my heart was starting to soften more and more to adoption. I was tied between two dreams: the dream to become pregnant, and the dream to adopt. I felt like I was stuck in a whirlwind of waiting in the dark... Waiting for whichever dream came first, or the day when one, or both, died.
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